


Bait

by LoveThemWinchesters



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - FBI, Established Relationship, M/M, Mention of Murder (not of major character), Mention of Rape/Abuse (not of major character), Mention of/Attempted Kidnapping, Minor Hurt!Jensen, POV Jensen Ackles, Schmoop, caring!jared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 02:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30048633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveThemWinchesters/pseuds/LoveThemWinchesters
Summary: It’s Jensen’s turn to play bait this time.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 20
Kudos: 137





	Bait

**Author's Note:**

> Holy crap it's been a loooong time since I posted something. But I had a dream last night, so...
> 
> And after I wrote this, I did notice some resemblance to "The Benders," but it's not quite the same.
> 
> *No disrespect to the boys. Just having a little bit of fun as usual.

Jensen glanced up at the rearview mirror. Two dark SUV’s were behind him, their rain-distorted headlights reflecting back at him. _Jared_. If all went according to plan, he would be seeing the younger man again in the not-too-distant future.

It was only late afternoon, but nothing but fog and dark gloom blanketed the forested land surrounding the highway on both sides making it look a hell of a lot later than it really was. He was in the middle of fuck nowhere Kentucky, just over the border from Tennessee. There hadn’t been sight of civilization in the last couple hours. _Why did the crazies always have to live in the middle of nowhere?_

His fingers tightened, knuckles going white, on the leather wrap of his steering wheel as he approached his exit. Jensen took a deep breath, trying to get the adrenaline-fueled tension to ease some, as he steered his Jeep into the narrow exit lane.

One last glance at the headlights behind him, then they were gone as he coasted down the quiet ramp to the stop sign. As he came to a stop, he had to remind himself that he chose to be here, volunteered even.

Because he was pretty. Or so they all said. It was almost comical. Jensen had grown out of that “pretty twink” stage years ago. Some disagreed though. Apparently, thirty-three still wasn’t quite old enough.

A muscle in Jensen’s jaw twitched as he got the car rolling again, turning left and passing under the highway overhead. He flicked on his high beams lighting up the desolate road in front of him. Another look into the rearview mirror—nothing but the smear of rain greeted him back.

Fifteen more minutes passed, another handful of miles into Nowheresville. Large trees loomed over the road like ancient guardians. Water swamped the asphalt and splashed under the tires. The fog hovered low to the ground, almost intimidating in its ghostly lack of movement. Jensen slowed down, eyes squinting as he tried to find the road he was looking for. With the steady rain of the past several hours (of course the weather had to roll in just as they were starting out—hopefully not to his detriment), it would be even more difficult to find the nearly hidden turnoff. But there it was, coming up to meet the road just ahead.

“Here goes nothing,” he mumbled to himself as he turned off the main road toward his destination.

\--

The headlights barely cut through the heavy blanket of fog. His Jeep bucked and jumped over the uneven and pitted dirt road; it was hardly one lane wide at best. One rough, jolting hit of something and the vehicle came to a halt, tires spinning, but going nowhere fast.

“Goddammit,” Jensen swore.

He slowly pushed on the accelerator pedal, but the tires just continued to spin. He shifted into reverse and he only got the same response.

“Damn 4-wheel drive, my ass,” he muttered.

Well, he was close enough. And it made for a good cover story as to why he was here should anyone think to check. He could walk the quarter mile. He was trained for scenarios like this. That didn’t mean he had to like them, though, especially when he would resemble a drowned rat in less than five minutes.

With a sigh, he turned off the engine. He took out his cellphone and thumbed it on. As expected, there was no signal, not even half a bar. He tucked the useless device into the inner pocket of his jacket to keep it safe and opened the door, senses immediately flooded with the fresh smell of wet mud and trees; his skin prickled in the chilled air. He locked up and pocketed his keys before turning his jacket collar up against the cold, thick drops falling ceaselessly from the sky.

“I seriously hope you guys can hear me,” he muttered, already feeling soaked to the bone as he started off on his short trek.

It was no easy-going. Jensen slipped and slid along the slick edge of the road. He guessed there was a good amount of good ol’ Kentucky clay mixed in with the mud making his footing even less sure. After this, his boots would probably take a good week to dry out. But he trudged on, persevered in his task. His eyes traveled around him, taking in his surroundings, ever alert. There wasn’t much to see, just trees, trees, and more trees.

Not more than a few minutes later did the building come into view.

At one time, it had been a ranger station, but now it was in private hands. It looked innocent enough, but what happened here told another less innocent story. Not many people knew about it, except for the ones that disappeared, never to tell another soul. Fortunately, the right ones like Jensen and Jared knew now. If all went right today, the nightmares here would become just bad memories, not forgotten, but a thing of the past.

There were several older pick-up trucks parked in the side lot as well as an older sedan. And as guessed, a tow truck—it was a guilty party to all of this, helping to stow away the cars of the unfortunate victims. Several hundred yards away from the building, and barely noticeable through the heavy fog, Jensen could just make out several outbuildings dotting the landscape, small and cabin-like in their structure.

He pursed his lips, fairly certain about what the insides of those cabins had seen, but he kept moving. Jensen had one goal today: to bait these bastards, to draw them out by putting himself out there and making himself a perceived victim, something he didn’t mind doing if it meant saving the lives of innocents.

The wooden stairs to the front door creaked and groaned as he stepped up to the porch. Two weather-worn lawn chairs sat against the wall. A table with a half-empty beer bottle was stationed between them; next to the bottle, a dirty ashtray was filled with stubbed out cigarette butts. Jensen lifted his hand to knock on the door, but just as he did, the door was opened revealing a young woman in her 20s, dark hair pulled up in a ponytail. Dressed in tight jeans and a flannel shirt, she had a pert, button nose and full lips, high cheekbones, and bright blue eyes.

Almost timidly, she asked with a glance over her shoulder, “Can I help you?” Her eyes darted around like a scared rabbit caught in the sights of a predator before landing on Jensen again.

Jensen gave his best friendly smile. “Uh, yeah. My car,” he thumbed back over his shoulder, “it got stuck in the mud down the road. You see, I’m not from around here and got turned around, got myself a little lost. Can I use your phone? My cell isn’t picking up a signal around here.” Jensen surreptitiously glanced around, taking in more of the place, eyes scanning what little of the interior of the building he could see behind the woman. “Or maybe the owner of that tow truck around the side of the building can pull me out?”

The girl eyed him almost studiously, cornflower blue eyes looking at him from head to toe and back. She looked behind him as if looking to see if anyone was with him. When she apparently decided he was safe, she nodded.

“Yeah, sure, come on in.” She backed away from the door and let Jensen through, closing the door behind him.

Jensen stepped into the main room, senses on full alert. At first glance, the place looked empty, but if he listened closely, he could hear voices coming from somewhere in the back.

“You got a name?” the young woman asked as she stopped to lean against the wall; her slim fingers toyed with the buttons of her oversized flannel. Through the doorway next to her was what appeared to be a hallway leading to the rear of the building.

Jensen eyed her anxious fidgeting. “Jensen.” He held his hand out to shake hers, after all, his mama had taught him to be polite. She slowly reached out and shook it. Her hand was cool and dry to the touch. Her grip was steady, not a tremble to be felt. _Huh_ , thought Jensen. _Not as nervous as she'd like to appear._ She was putting on quite the little show, but it wasn’t Academy Award-winning, far from it.

“Okay, Jensen, just, uh, hold on. Let me see what I can do for you. Our phones are on the fritz from the weather. Happens out here with the dampness and all.” Her eyes darted to the left, not looking Jensen in the eye. She was lying; it was pretty damn obvious. “But I’m sure we can help with the car situation. By the way, name’s Naomi,” she added as she disappeared into the back where Jensen could hear other people.

Naomi… Jensen raised an eyebrow. Now it connected. The picture of a young woman gone missing just a year ago. Naomi Marie Mitchell from Corbin, Kentucky. Born March 8, 1988. Missing June 14, 2010. Supposedly abducted from a Kroger parking lot as she was putting her groceries into her car. No one had seen or heard from her since. Well, that was another case solved. How she currently fit into all of this was another mystery though, one they could figure out later.

As the minutes passed—too many—Jensen felt his gut churn with warning, call it his sixth sense. He wasn’t geared up like he usually was. He felt vulnerable. But he had to trust things would work out. Jared would have his back; he always did.

He looked around the room, noticing a partially closed door off to the left. Several doorways lined the hallway in front of Jensen, one of which Naomi had disappeared through. The room he was standing in was sparsely furnished. The floor was made up of old barn wood; area rugs were placed in well-traversed areas. A coffee table with various hunting magazines on it and low-sitting chairs situated around it sat against the wall to his left. There was a small kitchenette off to his right—an antique refrigerator and range took up most of the side wall as well as a stainless-steel sink with several cabinets overhead that had seen better days made up the small area.

In front of the fridge, by the window facing the road, was a small wooden breakfast table with three chairs, two pushed in, one sitting askew. On the table, he could see a map spread out. With a quick perusal of it, Jensen could see it was a map of the local forest. A handful red X’s dotted the worn paper surrounding where the old ranger station lay. Jensen had his suspicions of what they meant and pursed his lips.

When Naomi didn’t reappear after a short while, Jensen became curious and tentatively made his way toward the back hallway. As he neared the second room to the right, he could hear hushed whispers coming from it behind the closed door.

_“Naomi says he’s lost and no one’s with him. No one will know; he’s easy pickins.”_

_“Is he what we’re looking for though? Jed don’t take just anyone. He's particular. You know that.”_

_“You should see him. He’s perfect. Better than any of the other ones.”_

That last bit was Naomi’s voice, cold and emotionless now. Jensen shivered. He couldn’t believe he put himself into this position, alone and with no immediate back-up, but once in, he was all in. There was no turning back.

Jensen backed away from the door and moved back down the hallway to the main room. He knew the fun stuff was about to begin and he needed a minute to mentally prepare for it.

Unfortunately, it began before he was ready.

As he rounded the corner, Jensen bumped into something warm and solid, and big. He stumbled back having not expected anyone to be there spying on him as he’d been spying on them. In that split second of realization, something hit him in the head causing him to stumble back. Before he could get his wits about himself, he was spun around and his arms were roughly wrestled to his sides. Jensen’s eye stung where blood was slowly seeping into it from the fresh wound on his brow. As he tried to wrestle with his attacker, he could smell the sickly sweet scent of chloroform; it was overwhelming. He refused to go down like that. He was better than this.

“Get off me,” he growled, fighting furiously against his assailant.

The man managed to get the dirty rag up to Jensen’s face, covering both his nose and mouth, and Jensen held his breath as he struggled.

“Hell, you’re pretty _and_ a scrapper,” the gruff voice behind him said. “I like that. It makes this game ten times more fun.” A dark chuckle sounded too close to Jensen’s ear. Jensen was starting to feel light-headed, but he continued to fight, refusing to go down. “Jeremy, Kyle, get your asses in here and help me with this one. We got ourselves a fighter.”

Jensen heard happy hoots of laughter coming from the back. Chairs scraped heavily along the floor as the other two men got up to join the fray as beckoned. With one last effort, because Jensen knew he was screwed if it became three against one (not including Naomi wherever she was), he threw his head back. He felt the other man’s nose give way just before a howl of pain sounded through the room. The arms around him loosened and Jensen took advantage of the moment, bolting for the door.

“Jared, I’m gonna get you back for this,” he grumbled as he yanked open the door and ran into the woods, the wet ground unforgiving and slick at his feet. “You’re gonna owe me blow jobs for the next month.”

Jensen ran, dodging between the thick trunks of age-old trees. He could hear more hoots and shouts behind him—it was sick that these… _people_ … thought of this as a game: capture, mutilation, rape, murder… These guys were crazy, crazy enough to have killed almost a dozen young men in their 20s and 30s (and those were just the ones that they knew of). They were slick, too, only grabbing people whose disappearances wouldn’t be noticed right away—and men who were of a certain type: pretty. Once or twice one or another of the three might have been picked up on petty little things, but nothing seemed to stick and they kept right on their merry way. 

They’d only stumbled across the old ranger station just days ago. It had only been a matter of luck, really. And of course, Jensen, with a little poking and prodding from Jared, had agreed to play bait this time. He fit the profile of that these murderers looked for in their victims: fair skin, light hair, green eyes, 30s, and _pretty_... according to Jared anyway.

It became quiet around Jensen suddenly. Even the rain was starting to taper off; just the gentle _drip, drip_ of fallen raindrops in the treetops broke the unsettling silence. He risked a look around the tree he was hiding behind and heard a _click_ and a soft _swoosh_ following. A _thump_ above his head had him looking up. A tranq dart as sticking out of the tree.

“Shit. They’ve got tranqs. Jay, I think I’ve done enough, don’t ya think? Get your asses here, man.”

Jensen ducked and ran, running in anything but a straight line hoping a moving target would be much more difficult to hit. Several more _swoosh thumps_ rent the air around him.

“Get ‘em boys!” yelled the Jed. Jensen had definitely decided that Jed was the dominant in this group, the one running this sick show. Kyle and Jeremy were his lackeys.

Sticks snapped under heavy footfalls closing in on Jensen from both sides and behind. He was good for a foot chase, but the sun was dropping low in the sky and these woods were unfamiliar territory. He also knew he was running away from the road and further out into the acres and acres of wilderness, further away from any help Jared and the team could provide. His booted feet splashed through muddy puddles, slipped on wet rocks, and he got tripped up on a root and almost fell, his ankle taking the brunt of it.

The voices taunted him from all sides.

_“Come out, come out wherever you are, pretty.”_

_“We ain’t gonna hurt you. We just wanna have a little fun.”_

_“C’mon, pretty boy. How ‘bout a piece of that fine ass of yours.”_

“Yeah, no thanks,” Jensen huffed in response as he continued to move through the trees, ankle throbbing with each step.

Another _swoosh thump_ answered Jensen. “Dammit.” Jensen looked back over his shoulder. He could only spot two of the three men, Jeremy and Kyle. Where Jed had moved off to, he had no idea. The man was proving himself to be a sneaky bastard.

“Two of three in my sights. Dominant unaccounted for,” he managed between heavy breaths as he found himself running uphill. He might’ve bitched about their daily five mile runs, but he was thankful for them now in hindsight. As he ran, he started to angle back toward the old ranger station. If he kept heading in the direction he was going, he was only going to make things more difficult for himself and easier for his pursuers.

“Next time, you’re playing bait. You like this stuff, Jay.” He could only picture Jared, concerned and worried, as was only natural, but also knowing Jensen could handle himself in 99.9% of these scenarios.

_“Hey, pretty boy. I think your time's up.”_

Jensen turned toward the voice practically skidding to a stop. He barely made eye contact with Jed, face still bloodied from his broken nose, before _swoosh thump pain_. “Oh, shit.” He reached up and grasped the dart lodged in the front of his left shoulder. He pulled it out, but it was too late. “Crap, Jare…,” he started before vertigo kicked in, his knees crumpled beneath him, and the world went black.

The last words he heard were, _“Well, damn. Come and get ‘em, boys!”_

\--

“Jensen. Jen. C’mon, wake up, man.”

Jensen swatted at the large hand slapping at his cheeks. “Leave me ‘lone,” he growled. “’m sleepin’.”

There was a quiet and familiar chuckle above him and Jensen frowned as he cracked open his green eyes.

“No one said you could take a nap in the middle of a case, dude.” Jared’s hazel eyes were bright, his emotions reflecting clearly in them and belying his easy-going words.

“Fuck off. Did we get ‘em?” Jensen’s words were slurred, the drugs still rampant in his system.

“Yeah, babe, we got ‘em, all of them,” Jared said as he gently tucked an emergency blanket up around Jensen’s shoulders. “They aren’t going to kill anyone else thanks to you. And we got Naomi, too. She’s not the victim we all thought she was, but I'm sure you already figured that out.”

“Good. Then I’m goin’ back t’sleep.” Jensen closed his eyes again. He felt the press of soft, warm lips against his before he was lifted from the ground.

“Sleep tight, Jen.”

\--

Jensen got out of the shower later that night (well, it was closer to the next day by then) after having been flown home. He felt much better now that he was clean and dry. Their medics had cleared him after checking him over. His ankle needed to stay wrapped for a few days, but nothing was broken, thankfully. They also said he might continue to feel drowsy for a while and there might be a mild headache from the tranquilizer he was dosed with, but he would live to see another day. Tomorrow he would go in for a debriefing, but after that, he could relax for a few days.

Jared was waiting in the bedroom for him, eyes skimming over Jensen’s naked body and stopping at the bandage on his shoulder. He moved across the room to where Jensen stood and smoothed his fingers lightly over the wound. He leaned in, forehead nearly touching Jensen’s, a breath away from his lips.

“Sorry about this,” Jared murmured, voice tinged with guilt.

Jensen shrugged his uninjured shoulder. “It was worth it,” he said with a smirk.

It took a second for Jared to reply, but then the meaning obviously hit him and he grinned. “Yeah, yeah. I heard you loud and clear over the feed. I’m guessing my month starts now?”

“You’re damn right it does. I think I earned it.”

“Yeah,” Jared replied, voice almost too quiet to hear.

They were silent for a drawn out moment, each sharing the other’s breath, both knowing things could always go wrong in the field, things out of their control, things that could get either one of them killed in the blink of an eye.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Jared finally whispered against Jensen’s plush lips.

“With you, I always am.”

Jensen bumped noses with Jared, tongued at the seam of his lips. Jared tilted his head and opened for him. The kiss quickly grew deep, life-affirming, as fingers slid over skin, holding tight and leaving imprints in warm flesh.

Jensen knew they would always be okay, as long as they had each other.

~ the end ~

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Leave a Kudo if you like. Leave a comment if you have time!


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